


The Thing that Must Not Be Named

by caffeinatednightowl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drunken Confessions, Drunkenness, First Kiss, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-06
Updated: 2013-04-06
Packaged: 2017-12-07 14:42:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/749688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caffeinatednightowl/pseuds/caffeinatednightowl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Dean and Cas argument turns in a weird way and now they're stuck trying to figure out why they keep wanting to kiss each other senseless.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Thing that Must Not Be Named

“I don’t understand why you are so mad, Dean,”

“Damnit, Cas, don’t you get it?” Dean huffed, pacing the less-grimy-than-usual motel room. “That dude in the bar was hitting on you!”

Cas did that adorable—not that  _Cas_  was adorable! Just the thing he did was adorable—thing with his head that he always did when he was confused. “I don’t understand; he did not physically assault me—”

“I  _meant_ that guy was flirting with you, Cas,” Dean groaned. “When he asked if you wanted to head ‘out back’, he did not mean the restaurant chain.”

“What did he mean?” Castiel stared at Dean with those blue eyes, hungry for knowledge and understanding and whenever he did that, Dean found it way too intense to stare back into them. Even when he wasn’t in superangel mode, sometimes Dean felt like he had to avert his eyes, because just looking at Cas sometimes made his body temperature rise. 

Dean groaned, “Cas, listen just—if anyone else says something like that to you, leave, all right? They’re  _not_  just being friendly.”

He expected Cas to agree and say that he would. When it came to interacting with humans, the angel knew his “people skills” were, ah, “rusty”. Usually, he acknowledged this and let Dean lead him through it.

But not this time. 

“I can make my own choices, Dean,” Cas said, stepping closer, something way more intense than wonder in his eyes. “I have lived for thousands of years; longer than you can imagine. I can—”

Anger rushed to his belly as now Dean found it in him to glare back at Cas, intense blue eyes be damned, “Yeah, for thousands of years what were you doing, floating up in the clouds? Times change, Cas! Damnit, fast enough that I still don’t have a smartphone yet! Sometimes when it comes to humans, you  _don’t_ get it and its going to get you into trouble! Remember that time you started a  _bar brawl_  outside Memphis? Maybe we should keep you on a leash—”

_Wham!_

Dean gasped as the air was forced from his lungs as Cas slammed him into a wall, his arms pinned to his sides by the angel’s superior strength. He always forgot that Cas was much stronger than he was, despite the cute— _fragile!_ —shell he was in. 

Cas moved in close, so close that Dean could feel the head radiating off him, his vibrant blue eyes narrowed and piercing right through him—he had to avert his own eyes, choosing to look down at the angel’s chest. “For the record, Dean,” Cas said, low and angry and deep enough to send a shudder through him. “I know  _exactly_  what that man was implying. I was about to say no when you stormed over to curse at him. The fight was your fault.”

Well…he did say something to that guy, but… “But…”

“But nothing,” Cas snarled, pinning Dean harder against the peeling green wallpaper. “I’m tired of being treated like a child by you. I can handle myself. Maybe you’re the one who needs to show a little more restraint in your jealousy.”

Dean’s heart was thudding in his ears, blood flushing his face as he finally managed to look Cas back in his eyes—eyes so angry and so blue and just— _hot._  “Jealous,” he growled back. “You’re crazy. You think I was jealous?”

“Am I?” Cas said, moving in so close that Dean felt the angel’s hot breath on his face. “Am I, Dean? You tend to act very protective anytime someone seems to take interest in me. As you would say, ‘I’m getting tired of your shit’.”

“Dude, we’re—” What was he going to say?  _“We’re just friends?” “We’re both guys?”_ What? Words failed him as he just stared at _those fucking blue eyes_ , his heart speeding up, and then his gaze fell on Cas’s lips, chapped and a little cracked because he guessed angel’s didn’t know how to use chapstick, and his heart was just pounding like mad in his ears and Cas’s grip eased up just a bit on his arms and then Cas’s tongue unconsciously licked his lower lip and Dean  _just lost it._

Grabbing Cas’s arm, he used all his strength to flip him around and slam the angel up against the wall, and without wasting a second Dean slammed his mouth against those wet, chapped, rough lips and his heart nearly exploded in his chest and his whole body felt like it was on fire and he couldn’t see Cas’s face anymore so he had no clue if Cas was responding but then a slow breath out into his own mouth and those chapped lips were pushing back and damn  _this. felt. amazing._

The twist of a key in a lock. 

_Fuckfuckfuckfuck—!_

Dean sprang away from Cas, his heart thudded frantically for a different reason now. He only saw a split second of Cas’s face, bright red (who knew angels could blush?) before the angel disappeared from sight. 

The door opened and Sam ( _fucking Sam!)_  walked in, bag of groceries in his hand. “Hey man, I got some sandwiches and beer and—” He stopped and surveyed the room. “Where’s Cas?”

Dean quickly turned away, hoping his brother didn’t notice the flush he was sure still was on his face. “I dunno, man. He poofed.” Dean fell on the nearest bed, facedown into the pillow. 

_fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckingfuck._

“He’d better come back soon; we need his help on this case.”

“Yep, Sure,” Dean muttered back, for once  _not_  hoping the angel would pop up as soon as possible. 

He needed some time to think; process. And most importantly, figure out what the  _fuck_  had just happened. 

**Part II**

“Don’t you think you should call Cas?” Sam asked, for what seemed like the hundredth time. “It’s been a few days—”

“Dude, if he’s busy, he’s busy, leave him alone,” Dean growled as he stepped into the Impala. “He did say shit was still going on in Heaven.”

“Yeah, but we’re after an  _angel tablet_ , it would kind of help if we had an  _angel_ around to sense it.”

“Look, man,” Dean said as he put the key in the ignition and revv’ed up his baby. “Cas has got other stuff to deal with. Let him deal with it.”

“Have you even been praying to him? He seems to only come by if you call.”

“‘Course I have!” lied Dean as he backed out of the gas station parking lot. Of course he  _hadn’t_  prayed to Cas ever since the “incident”, but he figured the angel would’ve have wanted him to, anyway. 

They probably both needed a little time to think. 

When he and Cas had that argument, it was just because he wanted to protect him—Cas wasn’t quite…”functional” around other humans who didn’t know what he was. They might take advantage of him. Laugh at him. Dean just didn’t want Cas to have to take that shit. He was just trying to protect him. 

But that  _stupid angel_  just took everything the wrong way and had to impy—jealousy? Of what? Like he cared if some douche was hitting on Cas…I mean, its not like Cas would’ve said yes—

 _Or would he?_  Most times, Cas didn’t seem quite…sexual…but there were ways he acted sometimes…like that time in the brothel, or that kiss with  _fucking Meg_ , or that one time when after he was gone for  _weeks_  he suddenly shows up in  _Dean’s fucking shower_  and got all flustered when—

“Dean, you’re driving over the center line!”

“Sorry!” Dean swerved back into his lane. 

Seriously though. Cas had it wrong. Dean wasn’t jealous; not by a long shot. If Cas wanted some space then, fine! Cas could do what he wanted. It wasn’t like he cared.

…

That still didn’t explain  _that fucking kiss_ , though.

It wasn’t like he  _planned_ it—Cas was just shoving him up against a wall, leaning in so close and Dean could feel the breath on his face and Cas was  _so angry and yelling_  and that just set him on fire and then when Cas just  _had_ to lick his lips Dean absolutely  _lost it_  and—

Uh…

Yeah, he  _still_  didn’t understand it. Cas was a good-looking guy— _just a fact!_ But something about his  _eyes_  and his  _lips_  and the way he looked when  _so fucking angry_  was enough to snap whatever semblance of control Dean had over his own actions. 

Seriously, kissing Cas? Kissing any dude? It was…strange. Weird. Dean liked women—he liked the way they felt, inside and out. He liked the sounds they made in bed. He liked the way they smelled after a shower—he  _loved_  them. 

Guys were rough, hard, smelled gross and apparently stubbly and chapped when you kissed them, but at least it was nice that they were about the same height and he didn’t have to lean down when _and he did not just go there._

“Stop swerving Dean! Are you drunk?”

“I’m not drunk!” Dean scowled at Sammy. 

“Are you  _sure!”_

“I’m  _not_ drunk!” That was, for now, the truth. “I just got a lot on my mind.”

Sam sighed. “About Cas?”

Dean swerved wildly again. “Uh…no.”

“ _Dean…”_ Sam gave one of his best bitchfaces.

“What?”

“You’re lying. What happened between you and Cas?”

“Nothing happened,” Dean growled, putting all his effort in getting down the lonely country road instead of listening to  _stupid Sammy_.

“ _What happened?_ ”

“Nothing!” Dean yelled back. “Look…Cas and me…we had an argument, all right? He got mad and then he poofed.” So it was mostly the truth. Whatever.

“What about?”

“What, dude can’t piss me off once in a while? Fucking angels, man. They think they can tell you what to do and then slam you against a wall and—”

“He  _what?”_  Sam stared, eyes widening.

 _Shit._  “We had a fight, okay? An  _actual_  fight. Then he poofed. So can you drop it?”

“What the Hell did you say to him to piss him off like that?”

“ _Nothing,_ okay? Why are you so—”

“Well, if you haven’t noticed, Dean, Cas freaking adores you with that ‘profound bond’ and all that, so you have to have said something pretty bad to piss him off.”

Dean was silent for a moment. “He does?” he said quietly.

Sammy didn’t seem to notice, now nose deep in a map. “Look, man, call Cas up, apologize, and get his ass down here. We need help with this.”

Dean scowled, and turned back to the road.

Two days later and still no Cas, Sam had had enough. He slammed his hands on the table as he looked at his keyboard. “Enochian. I can’t translate it. Damnit, Dean, did you apologize to Cas yet?—I know you’re not asleep, damnit!” Sam said as Dean attempted to snore loudly into his pillow.

“Fine,” Sam stood up. “I’ll do it, then.”

Dean shot up, all attempts at feigning sleep forgotten. “Wait, wait—”

It was too late. Sam looked skyward and said, “Castiel, I found something about the angel tablet. But its in Enochian and we really need your help. So can you get down here before—”

“Hello, Sam.”

And Cas was there—standing on the far side of the room, looking down at the computer. “What have you found?” 

Dean stared, mouth slightly open, but Cas did not acknowledge him. He didn’t even look his way. Despite the churning in his stomach, somehow that  _hurt._

“I found this,” Sam gestured to the laptop screen. “It’s written on a rock somewhere in Iowa—”

Cas looked at it for a moment, “ _It is found where it ends.”_

“And…what’s that mean?” 

“It ends…” Cas thought for a moment. “The way its phrased in Enochian…It means the apocalypse.”

“What.” Dean said from across the room. “We have to start the apocalypse  _again_  to get that freaking angel tablet?”

Cas ignored him. “I think it means the place where the apocalypse was  _supposed_ to end—that graveyard in Kansas.”

“Right,” Sam grabbed his coat. “I’ll go for a supply run and head out. Cas?”

“I’ll meet you there,” Cas said, keeping his gaze anywhere but Dean. “There are some things I need to check on, first.”

“Right,” Sam said awkwardly, glancing between Cas and Dean. “See you there.” And out the door he went.

And amazingly, Cas didn’t poof the second he was gone. But only a minute of the silence of them both standing there was all Dean could take. “All right, man,  _what?_ ”

“What?” Cas asked…still keeping his gaze on the floor. 

“You gonna ignore me all this time?” Dean stepped forward, glare on his face. 

“I thought it best if…if I gave you some space.”

“Okay, I’ve had space.” Dean growled, “But seriously, fuck, man, you show up, and pretend I’m not here?”

“I thought…that’s what you’d want?”

“Well…” Dean felt the blood rush to his face. “I dunno anymore! If you keep it up with your disappearing act, Sam is gonna ask all kinds of questions and…”  _And I’d be forced to think about it again and again…_

“So…”

“ _So…_ ” Dean sucked in a breath. “Listen, lets…lets forget about  _that thing_  last time, okay?”

Now, Cas looked back up at him. Eyes wide in understanding. “Okay.”

“It never happened.”

“It never happened.”

Cas was still staring at him, and Dean was staring back, and his heart was beginning to race again…but no, no no…this wasn’t happening again. They already acknowledged it. It never happened. It would never happen again. They would act like professionals. They would act like—

And then Cas licked his lips.

Dean grabbed the angel by the collar and crashed their faces together, the electricity in the air worse than that time they took out a demon that lived in electrical wires. The entire world narrowed down to Cas’s rough lips, Cas’s stubble rubbing against his chin, Cas’s hands running through his hair, cradling his hair, the way their breaths mixed as they pulled away for split-seconds between kisses to breathe, the way their noses bumped and lashes mingled and the feeling of Cas’s clothes rubbing against his and—

And then Cas pulled away. 

The angel’s fingers were still running through his hair, his face still flushed, pupils still dilated—mouth still in that perfect kissing shape—and yet, he pulled away. 

“I’ll meet you…in Kansas…” he managed to get out, and then he was gone.

It took Dean a few seconds, what with his heart racing and his breaths panting, but suddenly it all clicked.

Cas didn’t know what the fuck was going on.

Dean’s knees failed him; he sat on the bed, staring a thousand yards into the worn carpet.

He didn’t really know what the fuck was going on, either.

**Part III**

Somehow, they managed to make it to Kansas without further…incidents.

Somehow, with the help of a rather hot librarian, they managed to find the angel tablet.

 _Somehow_ —despite slaughtering dozens of demons and hellhounds and whetever the fuck that thing was that oozed everything—they managed to get the tablet. 

With the tablet safely hidden in a locked and warded against all things demon, angel, and monster box in the Impala’s trunk, they celebrated a hard won victory at the local bar. Sammy was still chatting up that hot librarian  and by the way she was looking at him, Dean was sure his little brother was gonna get laid tonight. Good for him; kid deserved a bit of a break. 

After the battle, Cas had, for some reason, stuck around. “Are you sure the tablet is safe, Dean?” he asked for like the thousandth time. 

“Cas, we’ve been through this,” he said after taking a swig of beer. “That is the safest box we have, surrounded by hexbags, in a warded trunk. It’ll be safe until we can get it to Kevin. 

“I hope we leave here quickly. I do not want to imagine what will happen if Crowley gets his hands on it.”

Dean shot Cas a look. “No offense, but with what you’ve been telling me of what’s been going on in Heaven, I’d be kinda worried if your angel buddies got their hands on it, too.”

“They would do what they think was right…”

Dean stared at him. “Dude, the angels imprisoned you,  _brainwashed you_ , tried to kill you and us how many times, and now you’re defending them?”

Cas got up from his chair. “They are my brothers and sisters, and I have harmed them in the past. I have to believe there is a pure motive behind this at heart.”

Dean took another swig of beer. “Yeah, well, good intentions lead the road to Hell, man. You’ve got me and Sammy to prove it.”

Cas was silent for a minute. “Fine,” he muttered, then turned on his heel and walked away.

“Hey!” Dean said, standing up. Cas was already heading out the door. “Wait, Cas!” Dean dug in his wallet and tossed a few bills to the bartender before heading out.

“Cas!” he called to the angel as he followed him to the parking lot; to the Impala. “What are you doing?”

“Taking the tablet to the prophet Kevin,” Cas said, still not looking at him. “It’ll be faster than waiting for you to drive there.”

“Hold on there, man, we’re doing this together, alright? Plus, angels can sense you, and all—”

“I don’t  _care_ , Dean!” Growled Cas, grabbing at the trunk before gasping and pulling his hand back like he was burned.

Dean gave a weak smile. “We warded the trunk against angels, remember?”

Cas glared at him, still clutching his injured hand. “Open the trunk.”

“No. Cas, I get it, you’re mad I insulted your family.  _I’m sorry,_ okay? Even if a lot of them are nutjubs, some of them were all right—”

“Yeah, and I killed them!” Cas roared, fury in his eyes. “Open this trunk, Dean!”

Dean stumbled back like he was hit with a force of wind. Gingerly, he approached the infurated angel again. “Okay, dude, calm down, all right? Lets just talk about this…”

“You want to  _talk?_ ” Cas growled, “Fine!” He thrust out an arm and grabbed Dean by the shoulder—they were back at the cheap motel. “Lets talk!”

Dean raised up his hands; a pissed-off angel was not something you wanted to mess with. He flicked on the light switch, his eyes never leaving Cas’s. “Okay, we’ll talk…but first, why do you wanna go take the tablet to Kevin  _right now_? Kid’s probably asleep anyways.”

Cas looked away. “I need to do something useful.”

Dean sat down in the chair by the small table. “You  _did_ something useful, Cas. Without you, we would’ve never found it here. You defeated so many of those demons. You were  _awesome_ , man. Now just sit back and take a break.”

Cas did sit, on the edge of the bed. “I don’t want a break.”

Dean couldn’t help the awkward smile, “C’mon, man, everyone wants a break—”

“I don’t!” Cas yelled again, looking back at Dean. “ _Every single day_ I have to live with knowing what I’ve done—remembering all those brothers and sisters I killed—how I shouldv’e stayed and done my pennance in purgatory, but I was only brought out to kill again—”

“That wasn’t your fault, Cas!” Dean interjected, but Cas didn’t stop.

“Now there’s more going on in Heaven, my  _home_ , and Crowley wants to imprison us all there, and if there’s something I can do  _right now_  to help, I should be doing it instead of sitting here with you and thinking about—” Cas stopped short, a sideways glance at Dean. “Thinking about how…how I’ve become more human.”

“You’re becoming…human?” Dean stared. “Is that even possible?”

“If an angel is cut off from Heaven long enough—then yes. I could lose my power—my grace would diminish, and I would be nothing more than human.” Cas swallowed. “Its happening, Dean. I can feel it. I’ve been having human…urges.”

Dean’s hands were folded in his lap, and he shuffled them nervously.  ”Uh… _urges?_  Like when you went cheezeburger crazy when Famine was affecting us?”

“Not like that; I do not feel hunger or the need to sleep. I feel…emotional…urges.” He cast another sideways glance at Dean before turning away again. 

“Uh…okay.” Dean still wasn’t entirely sure what Cas was talking about. 

“How do I make them go away?”

“What?”

“How do I make them go away?” Cas repeated, staring at the floor. “I do not know how to stop them and they make me uncomfortable.”

“Dude, you’re gonna have to give me more than that,” Dean sighed in exasperation. “Humans, y’see, we got a whole buttload of emotions—you’re gonna have to be more specific.”

Cas glanced at him again, eyes full and full of… _something_ , before hanging his head and whispering something too soft for Dean to hear.

“What was that?” Cas didn’t repeat it. “Hey, Cas, spit it out!” Cas still didn’t repeat it. “Damnit,” Dean got out of his chair and stood in front of Cas, hand on the angel’s shoulder. “What is it, man?”

Cas finally looked up at him, red in the face and teeth clenched and spat out, “Right now I’m having urges to grab you and rub my tongue against your finely-shaped teeth, okay?”

Oh.  _Wow._  Um. Okay. 

Dean slumped onto the bed next to Cas, his face as red as his. Okay. This was…more than awkward. Superawkward.  _Freaking. Angels._

“How do I make it stop?” Cas growled out, head in his hands. 

Dean sighed. “I don’t friggin’ know, Dude.” If he knew, he wouldn’t be thinking the same thoughts about Cas now, would he? “If I did know, we wouldn’t be having this problem.”

“It is a problem?” Cas looked at him, blue eyes wide and sad.

“Of course it is!” Dean stood up sharply, pacing the room. “Jesus Christ, Cas! Why do you think we’ve been all awkward with each other lately? We were only able to get our asses in gear because of the angel tablet, but now that we’ve got that—”

“So…I should go—”

Dean stopped in his tracks. “I never said that! Its just…” He ran a hand through his hair. “We need to figure this out, man. We can’t just keep dancing around it.”

“Does it bother you that I’m an angel?”

Dean paused again, looking at how Cas kept on blushing and staring at the floor—freaking  _adorable._  “Why would that bother me? You’ve seen the shit  _Sam_  wanted to stick his dick in—waitwaitnotthatImeanthatiwanttooranything—”

“Something about this bothers you.”

Dean swallowed again. He  _hated_ seeing Cas so dejected. Sighing again, he knelt down to Cas’s level, forcing the angel to look him in the eye. “If you wanna know the truth, its cuz we’re both guys, Cas.”

Castiel did that adorable puppy-head tilt thing. “Why would that bother you?”

“Because!” Dean raised his arms. “I’m _Dean Winchester!_  I kick ass, take names, and  _fuck women!_ I don’t get all chick flick-y for a dude! And then you come along and just…those ‘emotional urges’ you’ve been having? I’ve got the same ones.”

Cas perked up slightly. “You wish to run your tongue along my teeth?”

“Well…maybe not  _that._ ” Dean scowled. “Have you  _ever_ brushed your teeth?”

Cas did smile at that…a nice smile, that made Dean feel all tingly when he saw it… “You never told me how to get rid of the urges, Dean.”

Dean, thought for a moment.  _Oh, screw it,_  maybe this wasn’t something to be thought about. Fuck logic. “Maybe we’re not supposed to get rid of them.” Dean smiled, leaning in, placing his hands on Castiel’s thighs. “The best thing about being human? If it feels good, then  _fuck yeah,_  you can keep on doing it.”

Cas’s face started to reeden…those deep blue eyes of his starting that  _fucking electrifying_  staring. “So…what should we do about it?

Dean smirked, “Maybe keep on doing this…” And then he leaned in to capture the angel’s lips with his. 

Fuck if Cas was a guy, this felt great and so very  _right._

Every time they did this, it was amazing. Dean didn’t know if that was because Cas was a celestial being that radiated energy, but he fucking lit up every time Cas pulled him closer, every time his tongue dipped in that hot little mouth, and when Cas pulled him in so he was straddling the angel’s legs and  _God_ everything was starting to feel  _so fucking amazing—_

The door burst open.

_Oh, Christ—_

Dean ripped his face away from Cas’s to see Sam standing in the doorway, hot librarian on his arm, both of them having gone from laughing to open mouthed staring at the sight. Dean was sure they got an eyeful—him in Cas’s lap, arms around the angel’s waist, with Cas’s hands under his shirt and both of them pressed together and sucking face like two octopi going at it—

“The car was in the lot so I thought…uh…” Sam stammered, eyes still wide as saucers, before he did the smartest thing he’d done all night and slammed the door shut. 

Dean wasn’t sure how many minutes passed in silence before he thought he might want to get out of Cas’s lap and off of whatever  _that_  was he felt there. He sat on the bed, letting out a slow breath as he held his read-as-a-tomato face in his hands. “Shit,” he said through clenched teeth. “We forgot about Sammy.”

**Part IV**

The librarian, Stacey, was really cute…she had that “hot librarian” look that a few years ago, Dean would’ve totally gone for. Luckily for him, Dean had hardly noticed her, so it left Sam free to her attentions. 

And what attentions they were. Like when they were sitting at the bar, talking after a rough case that had, among things, restored her faith in angels, though Sam had told her to hold her breath when it came to whether or not God really cared. 

Of course, talk led to…other things, like when her voice took on a lower, huskier tone. “So…you wanna get out of here, Sam?”

Hell yes, he had wanted it.

“We can’t go back to my place, though…” she had said, stirring what was left of her drink with a straw. “My husband is there, and…” 

Ah.

Well…Sam had looked over, and didn’t see Dean and Cas at their table anymore. Where were they? They wouldn’t have gone back to the hotel without offering Sam a ride, at least (or Dean texting him just in case things went sour before he hit a home run). 

“Maybe…we can go back to my hotel,” he had offered, leading her out to the Impala. Truth was, he wasn’t exactly thinking with his upstairs brain, and if Stacey had a husband (“a complete moronic slob she married way too early and was now stuck with” she complained, making Sam’s smile a bit wider at that) she’d have to head home before the night was over.

She could be gone before Dean came home and needed to sleep, so there was no harm in it…

As he parked the Impala and walked back to their motel room, Sam whipped out his phone and texted, “Getting laid, don’t come back yet” to Dean. He expected to get a text a minute later saying “Go get ‘em, Tiger!” or something equally Dean-ish. 

He had noticed that the lights in the motel room were strangely on, he thought they were off when they left. Weird, but understandable…

And then he had turned the key and opened the door, and was greeted with  _that_  sight.

Shutting the door did nothing, because the image would be burned into his skull for eternity.

And now here they were, him and Stacey staring awkwardly at the pavement; nothing killed the mood better than walking in on something you couldn’t even  _fathom_  let alone not want to see ever.

“Um…” Stacey said, her hands shifting on her purse. “I didn’t know your brother was gay.”

“He’s not!” Sam snapped defensively, as he would’ve done if anyone had suggested it before hand. But now… “Um…I didn’t…he never…uh…”

“Oh.  _Oh._ ” said Stacey, turning a bit red herself as she understood. “So…”

Yeah. Dean. Dean and Cas. _Wow._  His brother had, on occasion, flirted with dudes when he was steaming drunk, and every so often he did things—like whatever the Hell his obsession was with Doctor Sexy—that were not entirely straight, but well, Sam just thought that that was Dean being Dean. He never thought that—

But then again, Cas  _did_  seem to have that weird obsession with him. What did he call it? A “profound bond”? And, around Cas, Dean always got…a little…

Okay, maybe he  _should’ve_  seen it coming. But he really hadn’t wanted to learn about it by actually  _seeing it_ right before his eyes. Eyes he now wanted to gouge out with a spoon. And as for Stacey…

There was nothing to salvage it. Sam accepted that he wasn’t getting laid tonight—and in fact, he didn’t really want to anymore, either. “I can…I can drive you back to the bar.”

Stacey glanced at the motel room door. “Are you sure you don’t…?”

“No,” Sam muttered, sure his brother  _wouldn’t_  want to talk about this. “And I need to get very drunk.”

——————-

The bar had to throw him out, and in the end, he barely had enough money for a cab. Sam wasn’t sure and didn’t care what time it was when he stumbled into the motel parking lot, hoping very much Dean and Cas had finished whatever the Hell they had been doing by now. 

The motel room light was on, damnit. That light hurt. As Sam shuffled though the door, Dean was there, looking worried as ever. “Sammy! What the Hell, you turned off your phone—!”

“You’ll have to pick up the Impala at the bar,” he muttered shuffling the door. 

Dean stared, “Why?”

He was barely a few feet in the room, glad Cas was apparently gone, before his foot hooked over a chair leg and he fell right onto the stained, musty carpet.  _Ow._

“Sammy! What the—”

“Cuz I had to take a cab home,” he said, and on the exhale, let out a slow burp. Hee. “Stupid.”

Dean gave a huff and rolled his eyes. “Dude, you got  _wasted?_  I thought you were getting laid!” He reached a hand down to help Sam up.

“ _You_  were the one getting laid…with Cas…hehe.” Sam giggled as Dean led him over to the bed, though he was doing a poor job of it because Sam’s dead weight seemed to be too much for him. “Cas’s ass. You wanna be in Cas’s ass—”

“Just shut up, man,” Dean growled, no more forgiving and motherly. Motherly…maybe Dean was the girl in the relationship, haha. 

Dean pushed him down into the bed. “Go to sleep. And don’t puke—I don’t wanna have to drag you into the bathroom, too.”

Sam snuggled into the covers. “Its cuz you’re so short. Heh.”

Dean threw the covers over Sam’s head, drenching him in darkness. “ _Go to sleep,_  Sammy.”

—————————

Sam had been in Hell, but the way his head was pounding was pretty reminiscent of it. And why did it have to be so  _bright_?Fucking sun. 

Before he could groan and pull the covers back over his head, he heard a voice, whispering. “Yeah, he got fucking wasted last night. Not sure when we’ll be ready to go see Kevin, Cas.”

 _That_  made Sam freeze up.  _Cas_. Oh, crap. He felt like a voyeur, and a blush crept up on his face knowing pretending to be asleep after learning what he now knew about his brother’s relationship with the angel was  _very wrong_ , but he couldn’t help himself. He peeked open one eye just a crack. 

Dean was standing there across from Cas, staring at him, and, for now, they were keeping the PDA at a minim, just with Dean’s hand on the angel’s shoulder. 

Cas looked away. “He did that because of…us, didn’t he?”

“Damnit, Cas, its not your fault!” Dean sighed. “I kind of didn’t tell him about what was going on…between us. I mean, until last night, I didn’t know myself, okay? It was kind of a shock. To all of us.”

Sam felt his stomach begin to churn Nononono, not now—-he tried to force the urge to puke down. 

“Listen,” said Dean, gently placing a hand on Cas’s cheek. “Just…why don’t you just disappear for a few hours while I take care of Sammy. We’ve gotta leave the hotel at noon anyway; just give him a little time to get used to the idea.”

Cas looked back into his brothers eyes, and if they were gonna kiss, Sam  _knew_ he was gonna puke.  _Thank God_ , they didn’t. “All right.” Cas nodded. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah,” and then Cas was gone. 

Without Cas in the room, Dean looked back over at Sam, and Sam quickly shut his eyes, pretending to still be asleep. But his stomach kept on turning and turning and churning until he couldn’t stand it—

“Fuck!” he yelled, shooting up from the bed, and the fucking world was spinning and he got tangled in the sheets and he was falling and his throat burned with bile and—

“Sammy!” and there wad Dean, grabbing him and guiding him into the bathroom just in time. 

 _Ugh, God_ …

“Here,” Dean said, throwing Sam a water bottle after he emerged from the kitchenette. Sam retched again. “Dude, did you drink the entire bar?”

“I would’ve if they let me…” Sam muttered, resting his pounding head against the tile wall.

“Jesus,” Dean muttered, switching on the bathroom fan to get rid of the smell. “Shit, man, I should’ve come looking for you—I thought you were getting laid, so I—”

“Yeah, well, walking in on your brother doing the same kinda kills the mood, you know?” Fuck, not even all the Jack in the world would get rid of that image seared into his brain. 

Dean was rather slow to retort and when Sam looked up at him, brushing his hair out of his eyes, his older brother was pink in the face and glancing at a spot on the floor. “We don’t have to talk about this.”

“Yes, we fucking do,” Sam growled. “Look, Dean, if you had just  _told me_  you and Cas were—”

“I didn’t fucking know, okay!” Dean snapped, gripping a second bottle of water in his fist like he was trying to make it snap in half. 

“Look man, I get freaked out if I accidentally bust in on you with a girl. You could’ve warned me you are now into dudes—”

“ _I am not into dudes!_ ” Dean yelled, face red as a beet. When Sam lifted a skeptical eyebrow, Dean glanced away and muttered, “ _A_ dude.”

Sam sighed, gulping down some more water. “Okay, man, but seriously. Sock on the  _fucking door_  next time. I got wasted so I could attempt to bleach my mind of that image forever, and damnit, it didn’t work.”

“Wait…” Dean stepped closer toward his brother, stooped over the toilet. “That’s why you got drunk?”

Sam snapped his head back up to glare at his brother, “Why the Hell else? You think I  _want_ to remember what the two of you face wrestling looks like? Its not like a sleezy bar one-night-only chick, I have to put up with you two on a regular basis! I don’t wanna know what it looks like when you two are—”

The cogs were still working in his brothers head. “But I thought…that you weren’t…” he trailed off.

 _Oh._  Sam sighed. “Dean, look…if Cas makes you happy, then good. Go be happy. I just  _really_  don’t want to have to see it, okay? Jesus.”

 _That_  perked Dean right up. “So, uh…you want breakfast? Coffee? I can go get some…”

“Just get me water and bananas,” Sam moaned, facedown in the toilet again. 

“Bananas? Why bananas?”

“The potassium in them replaces the potassium you lose when you drink, plus they help with the nausea.”

Dean paused. “I’ve been drinking for  _how long_  and I never knew that? Where did you—?”

“Chemistry class, Dean,” Sam groaned, another wave of bile forcing itself up his throat. “Hurry up.”

———————- 

Hours later, when Sam was finally able to stand without the world spinning, they were ready to be on their way to take the angel tablet to Kevin. 

Cas showed up just as they were about to leave the motel. 

“Hello, Dean,” he said, before noticing Sam was standing there, looking haggard, “Oh…”

“Hello,” Sam muttered, and without a pause added, “We goin’, or…” 

Dean was practically beaming, “Yeah, we’re going,” he heaved his duffel over his shoulder as he walked out the door. 

Cas glanced at Sam, before stepping aside to allow him to go first. Sam did walk toward the doorway; before whipping around and grabbing Cas by the arm. 

“If you two are happy, that’s great,” Sam muttered, attempting to keep himself looking more threatening than sick, “But if you do anything to hurt my brother, I will shove an angel sword into your gut so fast you won’t know what hit you before you explode.”

Cas stared. Blinked. Then replied, “I’d do it to myself, first.”

Sam swallowed, and let the angel go. “Good.”

Now that the bit of brotherly protectiveness was over, things would at least settle into what he hoped was normal. That is, normal if you were two hunters and one of your brothers was dating an angel. 

“Cas, you can have shotgun. You two can cuddle up front while I sleep in the back.” Sam gave a smirk to his open-mouthed brother as he climbed in the back of the impala, curling up in the backseat.

This new situation did have its perks…Dean was gonna regret all those fucking years of teasing. 


End file.
